


Put A Spell On You

by Traincat



Category: Fantastic Four (Comicverse)
Genre: M/M, Ritual Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 22:58:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17150657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traincat/pseuds/Traincat
Summary: “There is a ritual,” Victor said, cutting him off. “It would require us to combine our energies carnally, join our bodies together, and for both parties to reach completion. In doing so we would unlock the magic spell that holds us trapped in this place.”“We would have to – oh,” Reed said. “Carnally?”“Yes, Richards,” Doom said.“You and I would have to –”“Yes, Reed,” Doom snapped.***Reed and Doom have sex, for magic reasons.





	Put A Spell On You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chiaroscuros](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiaroscuros/gifts).



> I read your Yuletide letter and was very inspired by your love of DoomReed! You mentioned smut in your likes, so I thought this would be a fun trope for them. This is set fairly early on in Fantastic Four canon, definitely before Reed's married (although whether the marriage happens at all in this 'verse is totally up to you).
> 
> Happy Yuletide!

“I have to say, it’s not every day I get trapped in an enchanted library with the man who considers me his nemesis,” Reed said, trailing his fingers over rows of dusty books written in languages he lacked the skills to comprehend. “You do know how to make things interesting, Victor.” 

Victor made a derisive noise. “This would go quicker if you weren’t so stubborn, Richards. It’s only the sacred script of the Numerian Sirens, written, as is their custom, in the blood of sixth dimensional virgins. A child could master this easily.” 

“Right,” Reed said tersely, a muscle in his jaw jumping in annoyance. “Of course. So now I’m a child.” 

The library was a relatively small room, circular, with tall stone walls and a cold, bare stone floor. It was, of course, windowless, and Reed could find no source for the light that shone, but it shone all the same. Reed ran his fingers over the wall again. No matter how thinly he stretched his digits, he couldn’t find any crack or crevice that might grant them freedom.

He and Doom had been stuck in it for going on six hours. The sorceress – Reed fought not to roll his eyes – who had lured them into it had claimed that their only escape lay within the books inside, and Victor had been studying them without success ever since. 

Reed pulled a book off the shelf, but the words remained impenetrable to him, strange swirling letters that danced around the page, the ink changing from a deep magenta to lilac. Lovely, to be sure, but in the end utterly nonsensical. 

“This never happens with the Fantastic Four,” Reed murmured under his breath, shutting the book. 

He apparently hadn’t said it quietly enough. Victor turned to stare at him, his gaze accusing from behind his mask.

“Rarely,” Reed corrected, pulling down a book. “This rarely happens with the Fantastic Four.”

“Far be it for you, Susan, and the pair of dolts you drag along with you to expand your horizons,” Victor murmured. 

“Yes,” Reed said, rolling his eyes. “That’s exactly our problem, thank you, Victor.”

He flipped through the pages of the book, mumbling _only stole a rocket, but of course if it’s not from Latveria it doesn’t count, does it?_ under his breath. In his defense, in the scant few months the Fantastic Four had been active, no sorceress had ever thrown him into a magic prison with Sue, Ben, or with Johnny, either. 

“Ah,” Victor said, abruptly. Something shifted in his posture. He didn’t say anything else.

“Victor?” Reed said, stretching his neck to lean over his shoulder. “I don’t like how quiet you’re being. Did you find something? What does it say?”

Victor closed the book with a snap. 

“There is a solution to our predicament,” he said. “But it is – unpleasant, to say the least.” 

He fell silent.

“Well?” Reed said, holding out a hand. “Whatever it is, it can’t be worse than us being stuck here with only each other until we either find a different solution or die, so –”

“There is a ritual,” Victor said, cutting him off. “It would require us to combine our energies carnally, join our bodies together, and for both parties to reach completion. In doing so we would unlock the magic spell that holds us trapped in this place.”

“We would have to – oh,” Reed said, hand flying to his mouth as the words sunk in. “ _Carnally_?”

“Yes, Richards,” Doom said.

“You and I would have to –”

“ _Yes_ , Reed,” Doom snapped. 

“Well,” Reed said after a beat, hand still cupped to his mouth. “And that’s – it, then? That’s all we’d have to do?”

“We must bare ourselves to each other entirely,” Doom said, in the tone of voice of someone repeating instructions. “We must accept each other as we are. Then we would… proceed with the ritual.”

“Have sex,” Reed interpreted.

“Yes,” Doom said stiffly. “That.” 

“Well,” Reed said after a beat. “There’s got to be another solution. There are plenty of books in here we haven’t checked yet --”

“The vast majority of the tomes I’ve deciphered so far have been little more than spellbooks for children or charlatans,” Doom interrupted him, waving a hand at the towering pile he’d already read through. “This is the only one of merit I’ve encountered so far. I have no reason to believe the ratio will improve, and you are worse than useless.”

“Except to have magic sex with to get out of a library prison,” Reed pointed out dryly. 

“Yes,” Doom bit out, just as dry. “Except for that.”

For a long moment, they were both quiet.

“Well,” Reed finally said, shrugging a little. “It’s not like we haven’t done it before.” 

“Ridiculous. That was a different life,” Doom said gruffly. “We were different men.”

“Were we?” Reed asked, tipping his chin up defiantly. “I don’t think I was.” 

Victor turned to look at him. Reed met his gaze and held it until, after a long moment, it was Doom who looked away. He turned back, ostensibly to study the book closer, but Reed could see him thinking, and he knew what he was thinking about.

It had only been one time in college. They’d been arguing over an equation, and the next thing Reed he was getting stuck in his lab coat in his rush to get it off as Victor tore off his own shirt. They’d fucked on the floor, Reed’s fingers in Victor’s hair and his legs wrapped around his waist. 

When Ben had asked about the marks on his throat, Reed had lied and said he’d gotten them from Christina McNeil, who sat behind him in one of his classes. Ben had whistled and socked him on the shoulder.

Reed waited him out as Victor scanned the page again and again. Finally, he closed the book.

“Walk me through it,” Reed told him. “The spell. Be precise.”

After a heavy moment, Victor obliged.

“Joining our bodies implies penetration. These types of spells usually do. You’ll be the receiver, of course,” Doom said as he came to the conclusion, his arms crossed. Reed shot him a nasty look.

“Of course?” he said. “Is that some sort of Latverian law? Doom doesn’t bottom?”

“While it would be beneath me to submit,” Doom said imperially, “I was simply thinking of the – current usefulness of your specific power set.” 

“My specific -- _oh_ ,” Reed said. He felt the blood rush to his cheeks. “That’s – have you put thought into this? I mean, before? About using my powers like –”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Doom scoffed. He paused. “I would assume _you_ would have already come to the conclusion, though.”

“Why would I possibly have come to that conclusion?” Reed asked, narrowing his eyes.

“They are your powers,” Doom pointed out stiffly. “They are in your possession. And then there’s the matter of Grimm’s new monstrous form. Surely that must have complicated your lovemaking.” 

“Oh, not this again,” Reed snapped. “Victor, for the last time, Ben and I are _not_ sleeping together. Not before the cosmic rays, and not after. We’re just friends!” 

Victor snorted derisively.

“This is just like college all over again,” Reed grumbled under his breath. “Okay, fine. I’ll ‘be the receiver’, as you so elegantly put it. Take your clothes off.” 

“Excuse me?” Doom said, sounding affronted. 

“Your clothes,” Reed said, starting on his own. He stripped off his gloves first, then shucked the top half of his Fantastic Four uniform, folding it neatly and setting it aside. “Even if the spell didn’t dictate otherwise, I wouldn’t have sex with you in that armor. We can use your cape like a blanket.” 

“I – yes, that’s wise,” Victor said, unfastening it from his throat. He held it out and Reed took it from him, laying it on the ground and smoothing it out. The velvet was soft under his hands, much more comfortable than the cold stone floor. 

“I do have my moments,” Reed said. “I believe even you’ve acknowledged them in the past.” 

“You obviously misinterpreted me,” Doom said. He shed his gauntlets and unbelted his tunic, letting it fall to the floor with a strangely regal sort of carelessness. Underneath he looked almost like a fairy tale knight with his shining armor, and Reed had to remind himself that that was far from the truth.

Doom reached up, and then abruptly stopped. He stood there, frozen, like a suit of armor in a castle hall.

“Victor?” Reed asked, stepping close. Then he realized why Doom had stopped; the time had come for him to take off his mask.

“We must bare ourselves entirely to each other,” Reed repeated. He reached up to touch the mask and Victor turned his face away. Against every better instinct in him, Reed’s heart broke a little. “Victor, please. I won’t be cruel. I won’t laugh.”

“I am not afraid of mockery or cruel words,” Victor bit out. 

“Victor,” Reed said, touching his shoulder. “Take off the mask.” 

Victor gave a shuddering sigh and reached up, removing the mask from his face. When he looked at Reed, his bare face was filled with defiance. Reed reached up, tracing the features he hadn’t seen in years – the proud Roman nose and strong jaw, the full lips that seemed naturally made for scowling. Then there was the scar, twisting his face from his temple down nearly to the corner of that mouth.

“I almost forgot,” Reed said, drawing his fingertips down Doom’s jaw, “how handsome you are.”

“I don’t need your pity,” Victor said, steely-eyed. He was holding himself as still as a statue, so tense it almost hurt to look at him.

“It’s not pity,” Reed said, cupping his scarred cheek. “Victor, it was never pity. I accept you.”

Warily, Doom’s gaze met his. Reed smiled at him, a little helplessly, overwhelmed by the situation they’d found themselves in, caught up in the nostalgia of once again seeing Victor’s face.

“I accept you,” he said. “As you are. For better or worse. I always have.” 

“Richards,” Doom said. He reached out as if to stroke his hair, almost tenderly, before he let his hand fall back to his side. “You are and have always been a sentimental fool. And if I must accept that then – I do.” 

“I think that should be close enough,” Reed said, laughing a little. “Come on. I’ll help with your armor.”

The heavy buckles required a little elbow grease, but before long Doom’s chest piece had come off, revealing the heavy mailed shirt underneath. This Victor drew over his head, and Reed found himself reaching out to touch his chest, which was well-muscled and covered in thick, dark hair. His skin was warm – for some reason, Reed had expected to be as cold as his armor. 

“When you said the solution to our imprisonment would be unpleasant…” Reed slid his hand from the center of Victor’s chest up over his shoulder, down to the swell of his bicep. He looked up at Doom, unable to help the small smile. “Was it so bad last time?”

After a second, Victor smiled back. Arrogant, cold, and smirking – but still, it was a smile. 

“You were very inexperienced, Richards,” he said, “and as much as Doom enjoys a good deflowering…”

Surprised, Reed laughed. He leaned in close, until their foreheads touched and their breathing mingled. Victor’s hand settled at the small of Reed’s back possessively. Reed tilted his head until their lips brushed together.

“You weren’t my first,” Reed murmured. “I was just – coltish, in college.”

“Coltish,” Victor repeated, the corner of his mouth twitching. His other hand came up to Reed’s arm. “You’ve filled out since then, I notice. Doom approves.”

“Getting chased around by you and the Mole Man and the Red Ghost and the rest of your ilk will do that to you. But as long as _you_ approve,” Reed said, trailing his hand back down Victor’s chest. “Victor…”

The kiss wasn’t unexpected, and neither was Victor’s forcefulness. He kissed Reed like he was trying to devour him, to consume him entirely, his tongue thrusting into Reed’s mouth and demanding Reed’s surrender. Reed moved with him, pressing back, anchoring himself with his hand on Victor’s shoulder and one leg wrapped around Victor’s. When Victor’s hand moved to cup his ass, squeezing just a shade short of too tight, Reed broke the kiss.

“Get the rest of your armor off,” he panted, staring Victor straight in the eyes. 

“Do not presume to give orders to Doom,” Victor shot back, but there was a smugness deep in his eyes. “You remove the rest of your clothing first.”

That was an easy enough request to fill. All Reed was wearing was his boots and his unstable molecule pants, and they both were quickly shed. Victor’s gaze raked predatory over his body, and Reed let him look, standing naked on top of his cape. 

“Yes,” Victor said, after a moment. “Definitely an improvement from the last time.”

“Victor, the rest of the armor,” Reed prompted. “Unless you need help?”

Victor scoffed. The rest of the armor fell away with a practiced ease, and then they were both completely bare before each other. The scar did nothing to lessen the overall effect of Victor in the nude – he exuded power, his body beautifully sculpted. There had always been something about Victor that made Reed want to get close to him. Even when he knew better.

He held out a hand. “Come here?”

Victor took it, moving towards him. Reed embraced him, and despite the stiffness of his back, Victor didn’t draw away. It was maybe too easy to let their circumstances fall away. If he closed his eyes, their library prison was gone. There was no spell to break. There was only him and Victor, with no barriers between them.

It could have been like this, in some other world.

He lay down, drawing Victor on top of him. The velvet of his cape was soft against his back, keeping him safe from the chill of the stone floor. Victor was silent, but there was a predatory gleam in his eyes that Reed recognized from a long time ago. It made him ache.

“I’m ready,” he said, raising a hand to stroke Victor’s cheek. 

“Oh, Richards,” Victor said, turning his face into Reed’s hand to kiss his palm. “You are a fool.” 

“There are things worth being a fool for,” Reed told him softly.

“This won’t change anything,” Victor told him. “When we leave this room, it will be like this never happened. You must know that.”

“Oh, Victor,” Reed said, reaching up to brush an errant lock of Victor’s dark hair from his forehead. “Now who’s being the fool?”

Victor’s gaze was impenetrable as Reed traced careful fingertips across his brow and down his nose, making sure to steer clear of the scar. Then one his big hands reached up to cradle Reed’s face, putting his forehead down against Reed’s and closing his eyes. 

“Victor,” Reed said, soft. 

Victor’s eyes fluttered open. His thumb touched the corner of Reed’s mouth.

“Reed,” he said. 

It was different than the last time. That had been frenzied, wild, almost impossibly intense, both of them consumed by each other, fucking on the floor with Victor’s notes scattered around them. This time it was slower, more controlled. Reed threw his head back when Victor pushed into him, one arm flung over his eyes. His mouth fell open as Victor moved, and while it was true he hadn’t done this – or had much in the way of sex at all, too busy trying to get the Fantastic Four up off the ground, suddenly besieged by brand new crises seemingly every other day – he had to admit that Victor hadn’t been, well, wrong about his powers. 

He wondered how long Victor had been thinking about him like this. How much. Heat rushed through him, pooling at his groin. 

“Victor, faster,” he said, reaching down to curl his hand around his cock. Victor snatched it away, squeezing Reed’s wrist.

“You come when Doom commands,” he said, voice dark with intent, guiding Reed’s hand back down to the softness of the cape. Reed cried out as he picked up the pace despite his words. Victor felt huge inside him, thick and hot, his thrusts unrelenting. Reed reached up to touch him, running his knuckles just under the scar.

“Kiss me,” he said. A shadow of hesitation passed over Victor’s face, so Reed traced his bottom lip with his thumb. “Victor. Bared to each other, completely. Kiss me.”

“Very well,” Victor said, his voice hoarse. 

Their lips met, softer this time, less demanding. Before had been about Victor, needing to take. Now, here together like this, he didn’t need to. Reed took the lead even as Victor’s hips snapped up into him, his hand curling around the back of Victor’s neck as he bit at his bottom lip and then soothed over it with his tongue. 

“Some other life, Victor,” he whispered into the space between them. “Some other life.”

Victor drew in a shuddering breath. His hand closed around Reed’s shaft, smearing precum down it, and Reed embraced him, his lips planting kisses behind Victor’s ear and down his throat as Victor stroked him. He came hard, stifling his groan against Victor’s neck, sinking his teeth in deep. Victor hissed, not entirely in pain. 

He laid Reed back out on his cape, staring down at him. He took a moment to touch the side of his face, reaching up to rake a hand through Reed’s hair, and, breathing hard, all Reed could do was stare back up at him, at the look on his face. 

The tenderness lasted only a moment. Victor fucked him harder than ever, thrusts relentless as Reed wrapped his legs around his waist. Victor’s hands found his, pinning them to the ground, yes, but also twining their fingers together. His grip was tight, and Reed gripped back. 

Victor came with a guttural moan, collapsing heavily onto Reed. For a moment Reed just held him, one hand on his back and the other stroking through his hair. Something oddly like peace had filled the room, settling over them like a comfortable blanket. 

Then there came a strange cracking sound. Victor pull out and moved away, allowing Reed to sit up. He rubbed at his neck, glancing around the room. Directly opposite to them there was now a door. 

“Well,” Reed said. “All that, and the only thing we had to do was ruin your cape.”

“Doom has others,” Victor said, waving a dismissive hand. 

“Of course Doom does,” Reed said, pressing his forehead, for one moment, against Victor’s shoulder. Then he pulled himself away and, with a grimace, went to retrieve his uniform. He was glad he’d made today’s trip solo; this would have been a little hard to explain upon meeting up with the others, him sweaty and disheveled as he was. 

When he finished dressing and looked up, Doom had put the mask back in place. Something in his chest twinged. That was his problem, as Victor often told him – sentimentality. 

“So I suppose that’s it, then,” he said.

“What did you expect, Richards?” Doom asked. Now that he had heard his voice without the mask in the way, the difference between the two struck him. “A kiss farewell?”

“No,” Reed said. “No, I suppose I didn’t.”

Doom wrenched open the door. Beyond it was the same hallway they’d entered through, hours before. Reed could see sunlight shining in slats across the stone floor. 

“Richards,” Doom said, gesturing.

Reed made to cross the threshold, and then stopped.

“Victor,” he said. 

“What is it?” Doom demanded.

Reed twisted, fitting one of his gloved hands to Doom’s face. He leaned in and his lips met the cold metal of Doom’s mask, right over the worst of the scar. He lingered, just for a moment; Victor let him. Then Reed leaned away.

“Goodbye, Victor,” he said. He didn’t look back as he walked away.


End file.
